In the cool, green hills of Kenya’s coffee zone, dawn begins with a simple ritual. A mother starts a small fire. She heats water in a pot. She steeps black tea leaves picked from domestic tea farms. She adds milk to the pot, sometimes a splash of sugar. Just as the brew threatens to boil over, she skillfully lifts the pot from the fire. She then sieves the light brown liquid into enamel mugs. This daily cup brings warmth and energy. It prepares the children for a long day at school. It also energizes the farming parents for their work among the coffee trees.
This morning ritual plays out across Kenya, in majority of homes. Families reach for a steaming cup of tea, or chai, then head out for their daily activities. Although Kenyans grow some of the world’s finest Arabica, they consume only about 3 – 5% of their coffee production at home. The other 95% is exported to markets from Japan to Germany and the United States. This is unusual compared to other coffee-producing countries like Ethiopia or Colombia.
There are several reasons why coffee never replaced tea on most Kenyan breakfast tables:
- A tea-drinking culture rooted in colonial times. Tea was introduced by British settlers in the early 1900s and actively promoted as the everyday beverage. Over generations, tea became ingrained in social life: morning gatherings, market breaks, visits. Meanwhile, coffee remained the “cash crop” for export.
- Coffee as an export-only crop. From its introduction under colonial rule, coffee was processed through cooperatives and auctioned for sale overseas. Smallholders learned to grow and pulp beans for foreign buyers. There was virtually no local roasting or cafe culture to make it part of daily life for the majority.
- Limited local infrastructure. Until recently, there were few coffee shops or roasters outside Nairobi and Mombasa. In many farming towns, the first café only opened in the last two years. As a result, most people never had the chance to taste Kenyan coffee in a proper brew. Normally, tea featured heavily.
And yet, Kenyan smallholder farmers have mastered every step of coffee production. They prune trees at precise heights, hand-select only the ripest cherries, and bring them quickly to wet mills. There, cherries are pulped, fermented, washed, and dried on raised beds. Volcanic soils, high altitude, and reliable rains concentrate sugars and acids, but it’s the farmers’ skill and dedication that highlight tasting notes of bright citrus, wild berries, and floral sweetness.
The journey has not been easy. Global coffee prices frequently dipped below production costs, and auction payouts were often delayed. Many farmers turned to tea or dairy to survive. Others sold their farms to real-estate developers. Some uprooted trees, discouraged by a system that seemed to favor distant buyers over the people who tended the land. Yet, many held on. They met in cooperatives and refined their methods. They taught the next generation the secrets of harvest and processing.
Reforms in 2006 start the turn of the tide. Direct-trade initiatives and specialty roasters are forging fairer, faster-paying relationships. Young farmers are experimenting with innovative processing methods. Others are trying small-batch roasting locally. Local cafés and pop-ups now showcase single-origin Kenyan beans. As a result, domestic consumption has tripled in the past decade.
For us, it’s deeply encouraging to see more young people embracing coffee farming with pride. Each new generation brings fresh energy, creates jobs, and helps sustain the tradition for years to come. Coffee is no longer just a crop grown for export—it has become a symbol of resilience, skill, and cultural identity. The next time you enjoy a cup of Kenyan coffee, think of the farmer. They may still begin their day with tea but they have dedicated a lifetime to mastering every step of the coffee journey. Their craft has made Kenyan coffee a global favorite—and increasingly, a local one too.
